


It doesn't really mean that I'm into you

by ellsaba (vanillawg)



Category: The Internship (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Based on a Tumblr Post, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 15:10:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11420571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillawg/pseuds/ellsaba
Summary: Everyone in this whole office recognizes him by now.





	It doesn't really mean that I'm into you

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy wow this sure isn't the fic i'm supposed to be writing yet here we are.  
> this was based off of a tumblr post but i literally cannot remember what it was, and i was like "ok yeah i'll write this." anyway this fic has been waiting a few months before i actually finished it.  
> is this good? no. do i care? also no. just have it. whatever, my dudes.

Stuart barely spares the receptionist a glance. He’s been here enough that she just buzzes him in. He ignores her glare.

Everyone in this whole office recognizes him by now – knows what he’s here for, but–

But it doesn’t matter. He _literally could not_ care less. Stuart rolls his shoulders as he pushes the door open.

He’s sat there, tapping his pen against the desk, lower lip caught in his lips as he stares at the screen. Stuart ignores him, looks around the office.

It’s – it’s not impressive, not to Stuart, but he supposes someone who gave a couple more shits would find it impressive, with its dark furniture, leather couches, the massive glass desk and the wall of windows, looking over the city. From here, Stuart can see the shoreline.

It’s a hell of a view, but Stuart can see it from the ground.

“Stuart,” Robert says. He’s leaning back in his chair now, legs spread. He’s staring at Stuart, and pushes his chair away from the desk.

Stuart clicks his tongue. He’s grateful that Robert moved to an office without a glass door – that had been an awkward experience for everybody.

Robert presses a button. “Kelly, take a lunch break.” He looks up at Stuart, and smiles. “You look nice.” Stuart’s wearing a beige cardigan over a graphic tee he picked up from some vintage store forever ago, with some obscure reference he never bothered to learn, and skinny jeans that Robert had bought him. “What’s the top a reference to?”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

Robert tilts his head back and regards Stuart. He always does this – acts like he’s in control. He taps his pen against the table.

“Come over here.”

“The phone?”

Robert sighs, pointing at a box on his desk. There it is – the iPhone Stuart is here for.

“It’s blue,” Robert says, even as Stuart steps between his legs, sliding to his knees and running his hands over Robert’s thighs, up, up. “I also got you a, _ah,_ phone case. Self-thermal regulating. You won’t have to worry about – ah, yeah, just like that, baby.”

Robert’s always been sweet on Stuart, giving him more than he’s paying for – the phone case is probably some sort of courting gift, or whatever, but it’s neat – and was hard from the moment Stuart walked in the room. Stuart sighs through his nose and palms Robert’s crotch, moving off and unzipping him, pulling his pants and boxers down. When Stuart wraps his fingers around Robert’s length, the weight of it hot and heavy, Robert’s hips twitch up, and he groans; low, obscene.

Stuart fights not to roll his eyes. He’s so _easy_.

“Make this quick,” Stuart says, looking up at Robert from beneath his lashes. “I have a DR competition to get to in twenty.”

Robert doesn’t reply. Fingers tangle in Stuart’s hair, pushing his head towards Robert’s dick. “C’mon, baby,” he says. “I’ve been waiting all day for your mouth.”

He doesn’t bother wasting time; he’s got plans. He knows that Robert likes it quick and dirty, anyway. Stuart wraps his lips around the head, swallowing as he moves to the base of Robert’s cock. Above him, Robert groans loudly, hips twitching as Stuart rocks up and down.

Robert’s grip in Stuart’s hair tightens, and he stills. “Can I–” he starts. “I need–”

Stuart nods as best as he can, and Robert chokes on a moan, forcing Stuart’s head up and down roughly, hips rocking up.

Stuart reaches for his back pocket, slipping out his phone – it’s another present from Robert, an older one, with a blue case and a smashed screen. He can still make out his twitter feed, though, and he’s reading a rehash of Iggy Azalea and Azealia Banks’ twitter feud when Robert slams up, cock nudging a bit too far into Stuart’s throat, making his eyes water.

He pulls off, glaring up at Robert.

“I thought–” Robert starts.

“I’m _reading,_ ” Stuart snaps, and Robert blanches.

“You’re reading.”

Stuart waves his phone in front of Robert’s face, who snatches it and slams it on the table. “Hey!”

Robert tries to school his face into something stern. “I just got you a new one. And you are not _reading._ I didn’t ask you here to _read._ ”

He’s so temperamental – whenever he doesn’t get what he wants, he ‘lays down the law,’ or whatever it is he thinks he’s doing, and he can get _angry_.

And, yeah, maybe Stuart likes to see how far he can push Robert. To keep things interesting.

Robert probably has some self worth issues, or thinks he has something to prove, and _maybe_ it’s a little mean of Stuart, to always push like this – but he’s not planning on actually caring anytime soon.

Stuart rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he hisses. “Just – fucking hurry up.”

“You’re not the one calling the shots here,” Robert says (what a lie), but doesn’t waste any time anyway. His grip on Stuart’s hair is a little tighter, his tugs and jerks rougher, and Stuart can’t do anything but kneel there and take it. His throat swallows on reflex when Robert thrusts a little too deep, but every time Stuart chokes and gags Robert just groans a little louder, gets a little rougher. Stuart’s glasses are steaming up, tears building up and running down his cheeks, and his nose is starting to run. He’s clinging onto Robert’s thighs, just holding on for the ride. Maybe – _maybe_ Robert is a little in control right now.

He’s going to be a mess for his DR competition. He probably shouldn’t have pushed, this time. He can admit that.

Stuart knows that Robert is getting close, every move more frantic than the last, but he’s not really expecting him to pull out abruptly, a string of spit between Stuart’s mouth and his cock, and he’s not really expecting Robert to wrap his fingers around himself, practically stripping his cock as he ruts into his hand, and before Stuart can react he’s got come all over his face, Robert’s groan loud and drawn out. He comes over Stuart’s cheeks, a bit landing on his tongue and some on his glasses, fuck sake.

After a moment, Robert catching his breath, he traces Stuart’s lips with his thumb before pressing it against his tongue. Stuart knows the image he must make; lips red and swollen, face flushed and tears and snot and come all over his face. He must be a real sight – but Robert’s eyes are blown out, and he says, “you look fucking beautiful like this.”

Stuart snorts, pushing himself up to his feet, ignoring how unsteady he feels, how unsteady he gets when Robert gets too rough – Stuart has to remind himself who the fuck is in control, and it sure as hell isn’t Robert. “If we’re done?” He goes to grabs the iPhone box, ignoring the splotches of come on his glasses, when Robert grips his hips, pulling him down onto his lap bodily.

“We’re not done,” Robert breathes. “I want – can I–” he tries, hands dusting over Stuart’s crotch.

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever,” he says, and his voice is hoarse. “Just make it quick.” He’s going to run late as it is.

Robert usually likes to take his time with him, but Stuart just watches as his adam’s apple bobs and he reaches for Stuart’s zipper, pulling it down and palming Stuart through his briefs, fingers tracing his cock and thumbing at the head.

Stuart hardens at the touch, but ignores it. He pulls off his glasses, instead, licking his thumb and scrubbing against the marks. Robert pulls Stuart out of his underwear, fingers hot around his length, thumb teasing at the slit, and Stuart’s hips jerk minutely as he tries to clean his glasses on his shirt.

“Yeah, you like that,” Robert whispers, staring up at Stuart with something like awe.

Stuart rolls his eyes.

Robert’s hand is dry, so he takes it off of Stuart’s cock and holds it in front of his face until Stuart huffs and obliges, tongue wrapping around his fingers, sucking them down to the knuckle and licking at the webbing in between, until Robert’s satisfied and it feels _so much better_ when he reaches back down, hot and wet and tight, and Stuart’s glasses are still a bit smudged when he puts them back on but he can still totally _rock_ DR.

It’s over soon – Robert moves quickly, twisting his hand just beneath the head, thumbing at the slit, and soon Stuart is coming half-heartedly over his top and Robert’s shirt.

Stuart takes a moment to breathe before pushing himself off of Robert’s lap, Robert rubbing his hands up and down the outside of Stuart’s thighs, and sighs through his nose. His top is ruined, but he doesn’t have time to change. It’ll have to do.

After a moment, Robert asks, “what’s DR?”

Stuart huffs a laugh, picking up his old phone and the new one in the box. “Dance revolution. God, you’re old.”

Robert’s eyes darken (Stuart thinks – his glasses are still a little smudged, christ, and he still has come drying sticky and uncomfortable on his face), and he says, “come over tonight.”

Stuart stares at him.

“I’ll take you to dinner – that new restaurant, downtown. Dress nice. And go to the bathroom before you go anywhere; you look like a whore.”

* * *

He’s late to DR, and wins with come stains on his top.

**Author's Note:**

> [ follow me on tumblr for zero enjoyment](http://vanillawg.tumblr.com/)


End file.
